Star: a ChaseOliver Complexities of Birthright Outtake
by SpinningBlack
Summary: [Slash, M/M] This, like the title says is an outtake. It's nothing new.


**Author's Note:** This is a M/M (or Slash) outtake from my story The Complexities of Birthright involving a canon character and an original character. You could probably read it in a standalone fashion, but it may be richer if you read the other story. Please be mindful of the story warnings found on The Complexities of Birthright if you choose to read that story.

Thanks to a helpful review from Calimocho (which appeared on The Complexities of Birthright), I've been informed that I made a mistake on the legal driving age for England. It didn't realize that it was actually eighteen. Since it would kind of mess up the flow of the chapter if I changed it now, I'll leave it. You all can either pretend that the legal age is sixteen, or that Chase did some awesome wizard thing to get his license. :P

* * *

STAR

* * *

"I don't know whats going on with you right now, but I hope that you know that you can talk to me about it," I said into Taryn's hair as I hugged her.

We were standing outside of the Hogwarts train. The atmosphere on Platform 9 ¾ was filled with holiday cheer, but the cheer was missing my friend by a long-shot.

I was only a few inches taller than she was – short for a bloke I know – and when she pulled back it was easy to look into her blue eyes. I hated the sadness that was lurking there.

"I know," she said. Her slightly husky voice was lower than usual, thick with things, emotions that she was hiding. "I just need to, I dunno, wrap my own head around it. When I get it straitened out I'll talk to you about it."

"Okay, just...the offer is there. No expiration date," I said, trying to push gaiety into my tone. "You can call me whenever you need to."

"But the holiday, I'm sure–" she began.

"I don't care about that," I interrupted. "Whenever you need to," I repeated.

She hugged me tighter, burying her face in my neck. "You're such a good friend, Chase." Her voice was muffled.

"Do you need a ride home?" I asked when she pulled away. "One of the servants will have dropped my car off, and I can take you wherever you need to go."

"Thanks, but my step-mum should be here already," she said.

"Well, I can walk you to the entrance at least, just to make sure you get there okay."

We headed through the gateway, and back into the main King's Cross station.

"Y'know," I said, "It never ceases to amaze me that Muggles never notice us just appearing from thin air or disappearing onto the platform." Of course I knew exactly why that was, but I knew that my friend couldn't help but start explaining why. I knew that it would take her mind from whatever was bothering her.

"Didn't you read Hogwarts, A History?" she began. I hid my smile as she launched into an explanation. "Cassius Tinplate, he was a past Headmaster of course, laid a ward on the platform himself in 1854. It's very similar to a see-me-not spell, and causes Muggle eyes to slide past the platform. Some Muggles, the sensitive ones – psychics and such – are able to see it, and so the spell also is embedded with a befuddlement charm that causes them to forget or thing that they were just seeing things. It was a very powerful bit of magic and really ingenious if I do say so..."

The explanation kept her busy until we were past the entrance and soon I was waving goodbye to her as she walked toward her step-mum.

I watched until the car was on the road before making my way to the car park to my own car.

"There is my baby," I sighed as I finally laid eyes on my car. The Lamborghini SE 30, was three years old – yeah, I got a car for my thirteenth birthday – but it still made other blokes drool with envy and made girls wet their kickers (too bad I didn't care about that one). It was painted a custom silver that faded into a gunmetal grey, and had chrome rims that I picked out myself. There were only 150 of these babies made, and my dad, being a Muggle and as car mad as I was, made sure that I had one. My mum, of course, had argued about the silliness of giving a very expensive racing car to a teenager. She'd gone on and on about the merits of a nice broom or Apparition, but once she realized that she was being politely ignored she'd quieted. It hadn't stopped her from buying me and equally expensive broom that she still hoped that I would use instead. Seriously though, a car beat a broom hands down. Just the heater and air conditioner kicked a broom's ass any day. Don't get me started on my stereo system.

I sighed again as I rubbed a hand over its smooth paint. I fucking loved my Lambo.

I looked around to make sure I wasn't being watched before pulling my wand out and crouching down my my front left tire.

I laid my free hand against the chilled chrome, using the other to wield my wand. "Revelare," I murmered quietly. The spell was imprinted to recognize only my own touch, voice, and wand, and wouldn't reveal itself to anyone else without my help. The chrome glowed blue for a moment, before spitting out the key to my car.

Yeah, I'm sure that I could get it to just unlock and start using my wand, but I wasn't sure how to do it myself and fuck if I was letting some other wizard screw up my baby. Also, there is something to be said for leaving things as they are and doing things the old fashioned way.

Soon I was sitting on buttery soft, black leather seats – heated of course – and turning smoothly onto the icy road.

I stopped at Mcdonald's first. I had been dying for some fries and and a Coke, before making my way home, happily munching on my salty treat and sipping my cold soda. Wizard's can be so uptight about Muggle things and it was hard as hell to get a nice Coke around the castle. Before I had gotten my room in Serpent Hall, I had frequently bribed a few of the house elves to smuggle my Muggle snacks into the school. I didn't care if the other kids in my house saw me drinking them or not. It wasn't like it would help my standing in the house at all. At the end of the day I was still a Half-blood and gay.

It still pisses me off about how many blokes in the school, and not all Slytherin mind you, that still call me names while around their friends, but try to get me to suck their cocks in private. Being a rather small bloke, I had learned defensive spell work quickly, and how to hit them where it hurt. Suffice it to say, I don't get bothered very often anymore.

I came out when I was thirteen. I'd always kind of known that I was gay. I'd always liked girls as friends. They were fun and nice to talk with, but I'd never gotten the fascination that other blokes had for boobs. It had been pretty much cemented when I actually sat down to think about why I got a stiffy when I thought about Brad Pitt.

My parents are pretty cool about the gay thing now, but it wasn't exactly smooth sailing at the beginning. People are always surprised to know that my Dad accepted it easier and far more quickly than my mother did.

Dad has always been eccentric himself, he did marry a witch after all, and it was just easier for him to accept all around. Charlie Morgenstern was just a jolly bloke. He made his first fortune owning a chain of joke shops, before branching out into toy factories. Being cheerful just kind of went with his job I guess.

Mum, Kate, had had a harder time with it. She wasn't against my being gay at all, just that it made her reevaluate her entire vision of what she hoped my life would be. It didn't take her too long to get over it, the woman had to be able to accept change after all. She married outside of Wizarding society and to my jokester of a father to boot.

We'd only had one slightly serious conversation about the subject, where she had voiced her concerns.

"Its going to be hard, sweetie," she'd said. "People won't understand. I got a lot of flack for marrying your father just because he's a Muggle. I know its not the same thing, but I understand backlash, and you will have to be prepared for that."

"I know Mum, and I'm ready for it. I'd rather deal with backlash than pretend to be something I'm not forever," I'd said in reply.

She had smiled softly and kissed my temple. "You are going to take the world by storm someday, sweetie. I wish I was half as brave as you are now when I was thirteen."

After that discussion she was cool about it. Almost a little too cool. Mum tends to take things into overdrive. Soon she was joining the wizarding equivalent of PFLAG and trying to get me to join pride parades. It was after a few weeks of her reading "How To Talk With Your LGBT Child" literature, and a really embarrassing sex discussion, that I'd finally convinced her that I believed that she was okay with it and that it was equally okay just to be normal about it.

She'd even been okay when I brought my first serious boyfriend home for a visit. His name had been Brian Hayes, and he'd been a Hufflepuff. He'd had gorgeous green eyes, and curly – not as curly as mine – brown hair that I had loved running my fingers through. He'd also been the first guy I'd ever had sex with. Brian had been a nice guy, but after a few months of dating I knew that we weren't going to last. He had been pretty content with keeping our relationship under wraps and never acknowledged it publicly. I had been out by then of course, and he knew that if we were seen together too much that it would would be scrutiny. He'd been a seventh year at the time and reluctant to end his Hogwarts years with what he called a "scandal". For awhile I had been fine with it, but after a while it had began to grate. I wasn't one for pushing people out of the closet when they weren't ready – there are quite a few blokes that I could out (No, I won't say names) – but I knew that we could never have anything lasting if he wanted to stay there. So we had broken up. It hadn't been a bitter break up. I'd liked him loads, but I hadn't been in love or anything. We were still friends actually, and still sent each other the occasional letter by owl. After that I promised myself that I wouldn't get in a relationship with someone still in the closet ever again, which is actually pretty hard when you are a teenager and still in school, especially Wizarding school.

That, of course, was before Oliver Wood dropped from the sky and into my life. I'd broken my promise so fast, and it if was a person it would have been suing me for whiplash.

I'd noticed him before, of course. My Uncle Silas (on my mother's side) was friends with Ulysses Quartermaine, who was part owner of Puddlemere United. Because of that, and the fact that my Uncle owned permanent box in the stadium, I seen him lots of times, but it was only at the beginning of last summer that I noticed just how bloody beautiful he actually was.

I've been told that I'm handsome – I've got my mother's natural golden streaked, brown curls and my dad's hazel eyes – but I know that I'm really more cute, almost pretty, than anything. Call me a twink and I'll punch you in the face or hex your ass to hell. Oliver though, he was on a whole different level, as least to me. He had smooth, shiny brown hair that he kept cut short, and earnest, kind chocolate brown eyes that warmed whenever he looked at me. His body was nice too, with muscles cut to hardness by his sport. He was taller than me, most people are, but he never made me feel intimidated by it. His Scottish accent could make my toes curl in my shoes like the witch in The Wizard of Oz, only not gross and deadish.

I remembered him from school because he had been the Gryffindor quidditch captain when he was in his fifth year. I was always interested in quidditch. I never tried out though, fuck if I would give anyone a sanctioned reason to hit me with anything. Also I was too small for anything but a Seeker, and I'd never had the desire to try out anyway. I was strictly an interested observer.

We spoke for the first time during a dinner that was held at Quartermaine's house shortly after the end of the last school year.

My Uncle, once he'd found out that I was an avid quidditch fan, usually brought me with him to anything quiddich related when I wasn't in school. His wife, my Aunt Alice, or his daughter Julie weren't interested in the least in anything sport related, so he had been pretty much overjoyed when he found a like minded individual in me.

Quartermaine had a huge mansion in River Piddle, Dorset (the hometown for Puddlemere United) where he frequently had dinner's with all the players and any combination of their friends or his in attendance.

I'd only been over there once before, and it had been a smaller affair, with mostly Quartermaine's and his wife's personal friends, so I hadn't really gotten to meet many of the players in a more personal setting.

Anyway, I really didn't get to speak with Ollie during dinner that night. He'd been seated a ways down the table , and I hadn't wanted to shout down Quartermaine's ridiculously long table interrupting the amiable dinnertime conversation just to be heard, but I'd sent many hot looks his way. I'd been charmed by the way his cheeks had blushed and the slightly bashful, yet interested looks he'd sent back when he thought no one else was looking.

It was only later, while the "adults" had their after dinner drinks that we actually got to speak. I'd been having an animated dispute with Astrid Finley, Puddlemere's seeker, over who was the most influential Seeker in quidditch history, when I felt a presence behind me.

"I'd have to say that the best seeker is Mukai Hiro, from Japanese National hands down. I don't think he failed to catch the snitch during the whole quidditch season in 1970," a soft Scottish brogue said behind me.

I'd stiffened my spine to stop the delicious shiver that ran down my spine from being visible at the sound of his melted chocolate voice. I'd turned to see him smiling at me, with those pearly white perfect teeth.

"See," Astrid had said, slapping a hand on my chest, "I told you that it was Hiro. He is the best seeker there ever was."

I'd had to clear my throat before speaking. "I'd agree on Hiro being the best, but we were talking about the most influential. Sable Porttree, from Australian National changed the face of the game when she caught the snitch with her feet while in a handstand. It was probably the most awesome move ever attempted. It was reflexes and strength. People still have posters of the Porttree on their walls."

"It was a luck move that only the most foolhardy and attention seeking seekers attempt. She was just trying to be cute with that gymnast act and she got lucky," Astrid had said, blowing off the statement.

"Gymnastics is bloody hard," I'd argued, "It takes a lot of dedication and hard work."

"You sound like you do it or something," Astrid had said.

"Actually I have," I'd admitted, "but not really anymore. I'm more interested in Yoga and its principles at the moment."

"Yoga?" Ollie had asked with interest.

"Yes, its really relaxing when you want it to be, or it can be a rigorous workout when you need it to be. And its really good for flexibility," I'd said in a slightly flirtatious tone.

Astrid had smirked at me a bit, before glancing at Ollie and making her way to a different group with a murmured excuse.

I'd been grateful for her quick departure before I noticed the slightly alarmed look on Oliver's face.

"Are you okay?" I'd asked, confused about his expression.

"I'm great," he'd coughed before launching into a similar discussion about quidditch.

We had talked for awhile before we realized that we hadn't even really introduced ourselves.

"I'm Oliver Wood," he'd said in amused embarrassment when we'd realized our predicament.

"I know who you are," I'd said with a giggle. "I remember you from school."

"You went to Hogwarts?" He'd asked.

I'd loved that right away he hadn't assumed that I was underage, even though I still was. People always thought I was younger because of my height and slim build, and I hated it. "I'm still going there actually. M'name is Chase Morgenstern by the way."

"Still going? What year are you?" He'd asked.

I'd seen the horror building in his eyes as he tried to guess my age., so I cut the poor boy some slack. "I just finished my fifth year, and my birthday was last week. I'm sixteen."

He'd visibly relaxed. I was underage, but not grossly so, and I could see that the admission had calmed him. Of course, I ruined it with my next statement.

"So are you going to ask me out, or was all of the flirting and eye-shagging for nothing," I'd said with a grin.

When he stiffened and threw a look around to see if anyone else had heard me, the tumblers fell into place. Shit, I'd cursed myself, he wasn't out.

"I'm sorry," I'd said, quiet enough for only his ears, "I didn't realize that you weren't out, so I apologize."

By then, thankfully, my Uncle came up to me to tell me that it was time for us to leave. Throwing one regretful look back and Oliver, I'd left that night, fully expecting to never hear from him again.

Imagine my surprise when he called me a week later on my adspectus mirror. I was sure that I'd never hear from him again. I could tell that he'd liked me, but I'd been sure that he was more attached to keeping his orientation undercover than dating me. He was hidden and I was most certainly not, so I was shocked to see his smiling face when I answered the chime from my mirror. He'd gotten my sigil from my Uncle, and wanted to apologize about the way we parted, and to invite me out to lunch.

I'd been hesitant to accept, I really didn't want to get into another relationship with someone who wasn't out, but there had been something about Ollie that just...drew me like a moth to flame, so I'd ignored it. Pushed down my feelings, and basked in the flush of attraction.

I wasn't really surprised when he took me out in muggle London for our first date. I'd doubted that he would be recognized by anyone in a bookstore/cafe and I was right. We ate delicious grilled panini sandwiches, and afterward we walked around and talked, sipping mixed coffee drinks as we looked at books and generally acted like any couple would on a first date.

"Y'know, your last name means morning star," he'd said as we walked through the science section of the bookstore.

"I've read that," I'd said in reply. My last name wasn't a common one like Jones or Smith, and so I'd researched it before when I was younger out of curiosity. "How did you know that?" I'd asked him.

"I like research, and I like names," he'd said with a blush. "Well, I like to know name meanings. My name comes from olive tree, which I thought was funny as a kid since my last name is wood. Chase is a different name though, especially among wizards." He picked up a book about the planet Venus, absently flipping through its full color pages.

"It's a nickname actually. My full name is Charles Wentworth Morgenstern, the third," I'd said with a grimace. "The nicknames for Charles are just...ugh. My grandpa is Chuck, my dad is Charlie. They wanted to call me Chas, but I refused to answer to it. Eventually, I added an E to it, and once all of my friends started calling me Chase it just stuck."

"I like it. Its different, and it fits you, though I kind of want to call you Star."

"Star? Its kind of...girly," I'd hesitantly said.

"Not really. The sun is a star y'know, and its vastly important. The sun's energy is the chief source of energy for all surface activity and life on Earth. It makes it possible for our planet to host an immense diversity of life forms..." his voice had gone almost breathless and passionate, and his face was animated, and God...I just wanted to see him like that forever.

It had made a smile break across my face at his enthusiasm. "You really are a geek in jock's clothing."

That blush that I grew to love – one that he still hadn't lost – heated his face once more. "I like learning, and I just wanted you to know that my calling you Star is the furthest thing from girly. The sun is a star and it's badass."

"Fine, you can call me Star as long as I can call you Ollie," I'd said, reaching out to hold his hand, lacing our fingers together.

"Deal," he'd said in reply.

We kept our hands clasped as we walked from store to store, window shopping mostly, but strolling through the aisles of stores that interested us.

He kissed me for the first time in a craft store, right next to a display of glue guns and those multicolored pipe cleaners that only primary school children (or their teachers) thought were worth buying.

Ollie was pretty shy most of the time, but the bloke knew what to do with his lips. When he kissed me it was like that American holiday Fourth of July. I thought fireworks were going off behind my eyes. I think my knees even went a little weak.

I knew an embarrassing whimper escaped my mouth when he brushed his lips ever so gently against mine. He took the opportunity to deepen the kiss and I could taste the sweet caramel from the coffee he'd drank earlier on his tongue.

I'd laced my fingers behind his neck, sliding them up to trail in his silky hair, and he pulled me tighter against him kiss me more firmly.

I'd looked into his eyes when we finally drew apart, and shivered at the heat that kindled there. I'd known then that I was in deep trouble.

Numerous dates, and more blisteringly hot make out sessions followed. We went on all the normal dates: the movies, bowling (which I was horrible at), the science museum (his favorite), and hiking in Scotland.

Our second date, hiking in Scotland was my favorite. Ollie had gone hiking often as a child with his father, and I was pretty athletic myself, so the walk from Dalmally to the ruins of Kilchurn Castle was fairly easy.

There weren't any facilities, cafes, or gift shops to ruin the quiet majesty of the area. The ruins were lovely and the view of Loch Awe was beautiful. I could easily imagine the castle's past use, and it was nice that it wasn't an overcrowded tourist destination. That also added the added effect of putting Ollie at ease, and I could see his cares drain away. In that moment, breathing in the fresh air, I felt like we were the only two people in the world.

After we shared a simple meal he'd packed – sandwiches, fruit, and water – we'd explored the ruins further, running our hands along smooth rock, the clomp of our boots against stone.

"I like it here," I'd said. "Its nice."

"Its one of my favorite places to hike, even though its not very strenuous. Not many people come here, and its quiet. You can think here," he'd said in reply.

"I like how you are here too," I'd said quietly, lowering my face as I kicked at a dirt clod. "I can see how tense you get when we're in public places."

"Star," he'd began, tipping up my chin with a finger so he could look into my eyes. "It's not you. I'm not ashamed of you or anything like that. I'm ashamed of myself to tell the truth. Of how cowardly I'm being. If you don't want to...continue...I'll understand. You shouldn't have to hide just because I'm too scared to let anyone know who I am. I just...I mean...I love my job. Quidditch is all I know, and I'm scared as fuck of what will happen if I let anyone know. I don't think that they'd accept me."

I'd wanted to be selfish, and tell him that he had to tell everyone about us, but as scared as he was to come out, I was just as scared to lose him, and he was partially right. Quidditch wasn't the most accepting sport for anyone who wasn't strictly hetero, and I knew that he would suffer backlash if he decided to come out. We hadn't known each other long, and I didn't want to force him into doing something that he wasn't ready for. It had to be when he decided, not just because it was one of my requirements. I knew, eventually, that it would be something that he had to do if he wanted us to be something serious. I refused to hide forever. I had to be honest with him.

"We're both young, Ollie. I want to say that I will wait forever for you, but I won't lie to you. So I'll say that I'll wait for now, because I like you so much and I think that you are worth the wait," I'd said instead, pushing down just a hint of bitterness.

The hint faded away when he smiled. That perfect, blinding smile that still never failed to make me love him just a little more each time it appeared.

He'd cupped my jaw, and brushed his lips against mine, kissing me intensely. Once again I pushed away my worries as he kissed me, my back pressed against sun-warmed stone.

We'd been dating for almost a month before we finally had sex. There had been a lot of heavy petting but nothing further than that. I vividly remembered that night.

He invited me over to his his flat for dinner. Ollie's flat was tiny, pretty much two rooms. A living room/kitchen combo, and a bedroom that branched off to a bathroom, but he was proud of it.

I just liked the fact that we could have privacy there. No worry of nosy eyes on us, or the threat of my parents bursting into the room.

Ollie couldn't cook worth a damn, but he could order in like a champ, so we had mushroom ravioli, salad and bread. I didn't often drink wine, but I liked the Dolcetto that he'd paired with dinner. It was a dark red wine that tasted like black cherry, raspberries, chocolate cherry and a hint of bitter almond.

I don't think that Ollie knew that I planned to seduce him that night, but I think he got the picture when I kept rubbing my foot against his leg under the table.

I knew that he was surprised when I suggested that we go to the couch to watch telly for awhile. He was nervous, and though the wine had loosened him up a bit, I didn't want him to be tense for what I had in mind.

We watched a movie for awhile, to this day I can't remember what movie it was exactly, before I made my move. Raising to my knees, I straddled his waist, and pressed my lips against his. I rocked against him, and licked his plump bottom lip before pulling back slightly. "I want you," I said.

"Star, are you sure that..." he began.

"I'm sure. I've wanted to for awhile." I kissed his neck, smelling a hint of whatever fragrance he'd used earlier against his warm skin. I opened the buttons on his shirt one by one, revealing golden tanned skin and hard muscles, before bending down to run my tongue over one of his nipples.

He'd groaned and and bucked slightly against me, one hand raising to run through my curls.

I laid open mouth kisses against his chest moving to the other nipple, which got equal treatment, my other hand rubbing in circle against the abandoned nipple.

Shifting back a bit, I ran my hand down the firm muscles of his stomach, before pausing at button of his jeans. When he didn't offer any protests, pulled his jeans open, pushing my hand inside and past his boxers to wrap a hand around his cock. I rubbed my thumb across the head, and thrilled at the sexy moan that escaped his lips.

I let go of him reluctantly before shifting back further, and going down onto my knees in front of him. I wanted more, and I hoped that he wouldn't stop me from giving it to him.

Pulling a bit on his hips, and scooting closer put me in the perfect position. He looked down at me with eyes slitted with desire as I pulled down his boxers to free him.

Grasping him firmly once more, leaned down to run my mouth on just the head of his cock, laving my tongue against the salt flavored skin.

"Fuck," he gasped, drawing in a hitching breath as my mouth went down further on him.

He was pretty big, not overwhelming, but definitely more than Brian had been blessed with, so I took as much as I could, and jacked what I couldn't. I wanted to blow his fucking mind, and the sexy sounds that he was making led me to believe that I was succeeding.

"Shit, Star, If you don't stop I'll come," he warned, that Scottish brogue rough with passion.

I eased away, because as much as I liked sucking him, I wanted him to fuck me more.

When I gained my feet, he grabbed my hand, leading me to his bedroom. I walked past him pulling of my shirt, and toeing off my shoes and socks before I looked back at him.

He was hesitating in the doorway.

"Ollie," I said gently, "We don't have to do this today if you don't want to."

He moved into the room. "Its not that I don't want to just...I haven't done much beyond kissing with a bloke. I don't want to fuck this up."

I pushed down my surprise. With the way his kissed I wouldn't have guessed that... "Are you a virgin Ollie?" I asked carefully.

"No. I've been with girls, just never with another bloke. Not all the way at least. Blowjobs, and handjobs, yeah, but I've never fucked a guy or been fucked by one."

"We don't have to do that, y'know. Not every gay bloke does anal," I said.

He blushed. "Have you?"

I fidgeted. "Well, yes. I've had one serious boyfriend, Brian, and we did."

"Did you top or bottom," he asked.

"Look at you with the lingo," I said in amusement, grinning when he blushed deeper. "And to answer your question, both, but I mostly topped."

"Really?" he said with interest.

I rolled my eyes. "I know, most people don't think that by looking at me, but yeah."

He looked uncomfortable for a second. "I think I want to try it, but maybe not..." he trailed off.

"You don't want to bottom first?" I guessed. I'd figured that he wouldn't want to, at least not yet. Honestly, I'd always assumed that when we got to this point that I'd be bottoming anyway. I really didn't have a problem with it. I liked it both ways. "Its okay if you don't want to."

"Really? But its not really fair," he started.

"Its not about fair," I interrupted. "Its about what makes you feel good. I don't want you to do anything that you don't want to do. It's fine," I stressed, "Come here."

He crossed the room, and I pulled the unbuttoned shirt from his body, laying a warm kiss against his shoulder.

We quietly undressed each other, and soon we were on the bed, kissing hotly once more.

I reclined against the soft pillows on his bed as he ran his big, quidditch calloused hands over my body. His fingers plucked at my nipples, turning them in to flushed hard pinpoints of sensation, and his mouth crashed against mine once more, before kissing down my body.

His hand drifted down to fist my cock, stroking it, before taking it in his mouth. I think my fucking eyes crossed as he started lashing his tongue on the head, teasing me, pulling breathy little moans from my throat. I raised my head a little, to see his brown eyes train on me for an electric second, before they drifted close as he began to suck.

I pushed my fingers through his silky hair, moaning incoherently. My back arched from the bed. God, his fucking hands drove me crazy. "Nnngh, shit, Ollie. Fuck me."

He hesitated for a moment, letting me gently slide from his mouth, before reaching over to his nightstand to pull out a bottle of lube.

I rolled over onto my side, turning my head to glance at him. "For a guy that says he hasn't done this before, you sure seem to know what you're doing," I joked.

He chuckled. "I told you I like to research." Setting the bottle beside us on the bed, he settled behind me and started laying warm kisses against my back, his trailing down to lightly pinch my ass.

I heard the snick of the bottle opening, and then his hands were on me. The coolness of lube against my skin. I wasn't surprised to hear him murmur a spell to get me ready – it was nice to be a wizard – before the blunt head of his cock was pushing inside of me.

I bit my lip, and wriggled just a bit as I got used to the feel of him. His hands moved down to my hips, firmly gripping the skin there.

A low, gasping groan escaped my lips, as he pulled out slowly, rocking back into me, building a rhythm and totally fucking hitting the spot. "Fuck, Ollie...right there." I reached down to grab my cock, pulling at it in time with his thrusts, moaning as the sensation ramped higher.

"Star, you fuckin' feel so good," his voice growled. And there it was. That fucking brogue that drove me crazy.

His movements grew faster and I could feel every inch of him, sliding in, pulling out. I turned my head into th pillow, biting the edge as I tried to muffle my shouts of pleasure.

"Oh, God, please...Ollie...Unghh," He leaned into me, his teeth grazing my shoulder, and that was it. I came hard, squeezing his length, pushing him over as he came as well, groaning harshly in pleasured bliss.

"I love you Star," he said, whispering into my hair.

"I love you too."

0o0

My house was on Chesterfield Street, in Mayfair, not far from Berkeley Square and Green Park. Named Morgenstern Place, the house had been bought by my parents shortly after they were married. My father had been willing to move into a wizarding neighborhood, but my mother would have none of that. She'd wanted my father to be comfortable wherever they lived and knew, even though he said the opposite, that he wouldn't ever be at ease in a place were he was in the minority.

Morgenstern Place was arranged over six floors, and had two reception rooms, a modern kitchen, study, five bedrooms (three with contemporary en suite bathrooms and dressing rooms), bathroom, guest cloakroom, two roof terraces and patio.

The master bedroom, my parents room, was located on the first floor, under which was the ground floor (entrance hall, reception room, and terrace), and the lower ground floor (second reception room, kitchen, and guest cloakroom and bathroom).

I pulled the Lambo into my parking place in front of the house, making sure to lock it, before hopping out to go inside.

There was a cheery wreath, Frosty the Snowman inspired, on the door that I knew was made by my mother. Kate Morgenstern was one crafty woman, and she loved to spot our house with DIY projects. She'd kept every single horribly constructed monstrosity that I'd made in primary school, and brought each one out proudly on their proper holidays.

They were sitting in the ground floor reception room watching telly when I walked through the door.

My mum immediately jumped from the couch, hugged me tightly, and smacked kisses against my cheeks.

"You've grown so skinny. What have they been feeding you at that school?" she asked predictably. My mum was always concerned that I wasn't been fed enough, and if I wasn't such an avid yoga practitioner, and believer in fitness I'd be as fat as the Christmas ham I knew my mother would be baking for the holiday. The fact was it wasn't Hogwarts food that had me looking wan, it was more the Ollie situation that was keeping the pounds down.

"He looks fine, if a bit pale," Dad said, climbing up from his place on the couch. He hugged me just as tightly, before letting me loose once more.

"I'm just cold," I said.

"Well, maybe if you took the time to put on a coat you wouldn't be chilled to the bone. You'll catch your death of cold if you don't learn to bundle up properly," Mum admonished.

"Are Uncle Silas, Aunt Alice, and Julie still coming here for Christmas?" I asked, hopefully turning my mother's concern elsewhere. I swear, the woman could still make me feel like a five year old, and I suspected that she always would have the ability.

"No, they actually decided to go to Jamaica for the holiday. Can you imagine? Christmas isn't Christmas without snow, in my opinion," Mum answered. "Is Ollie still coming?"

My parents were actually pretty cool about my boyfriend. They liked Ollie a lot once they'd met him. They didn't like that he was older, of course, but they also knew that there wasn't much they could do about it. I'd be seventeen in February and I'd be an adult then, and they also knew that the most surefire way to get me to do something was to say that I couldn't do it. Yes, my parents were smart people.

"He was supposed to come and spend Christmas Eve with us, but instead I think that we are going to spend New Year's Eve together," I said glumly.

"Why the change of plans?" Dad asked.

"His father got engaged a week ago to his longtime girlfriend, Diana, and he wanted them to spend Christmas together as a family."

"Have you met the fiancee yet?" Mom asked.

I snorted. "I haven't even met his father, let alone the fiancee."

I didn't like the fleeting look of pity that graced my mother's face. Fortunately the look quickly turned into indignation of my behalf. "I'm not trying to get into your business, but I don't like the fact that he is keeping you a secret. Is he ashamed of you or something, because if that is the case you can do so much better. I like Ollie, but you should drop him like a hot coal if he doesn't learn to appreciate you."

"He's not ashamed of me, Mum. I think he's ashamed of himself," I said quietly. Even as I defended my boyfriend a small part of me felt like maybe she had a point. We had been dating for six months and he still hadn't introduced me to his father, and I rarely got to see his friends, although they all knew I existed.

I would have to speak about it with him soon. I was just...there was something about Ollie that made me feel at peace. He was such an interesting person. He was fun, witty, freaking fantastic in bed, but also kind and compassionate.

I guess the real reason why I gave him so much slack, other than the fact that I loved him, was that I knew that it was fear that hindered him. Ollie was an only child, and his mother had died when he was five. He and his father had only had each other, and they were really close. I knew that he was afraid that if he came out that it would all change, and I felt for him, really I did, but I knew that I was getting to my point.

I didn't want to be ultimatum boy, but I was starting to think that there wasn't going to be any other way to get through to him.

0o0

Ollie and I had decided to exchange Christmas gifts on New Year's day.

My gift was two part. I'd gotten him a book on names, which was actually harder than you would think. Most name books are baby name books, and I didn't want to put any frightening ideas in his head by gifting him with one of those. I liked kids, and I'd probably adopt at some point, but not until way, way into the future. Keeping with the name thing, I'd also gotten him a black leather and silver engraved bracelet, etched with his name. It was perfect. Not too showy, but still thoughtful and personal.

We'd both gotten invited to several New Year's eve parties, but we'd decided that we would have dinner together in his flat together instead.

I could smell the scent of delicious food as I neared his door. I barely tapped the wood before the door was thrown open, and I was pulled into strong arms.

"I missed you, Star," he said when he finally pulled back.

"I missed you too," I said with a laugh. I pulled off my coat, hanging it on the coat rack next to the door, and dropping my bag on the floor next to it. "It smells really good in here, so I know you didn't cook," I joked.

"And since there is an absence of smoke and firefighters you'd be correct," he quipped.

Soon we were sitting down to a nice meal of artichokes with roasted-pepper dip, bitter greens with tarragon, vinaigrette and pine nuts, veal medallions with apple-thyme sauce and mashed sweet potatoes with marsala, accompanying it with a nice Brunello.

I leaned back in my chair with a sigh after eating. "Ollie you really outdid yourself this time. I'm so full, you might have to roll me out of the room like that girl in Willy Wonka."

I laughed at his look of confusion. I'd been working on his film education, (I'd gotten him one of those magical suppressors for the telly) but I obviously needed to introduce him to more Muggle films. "Nevermind," I said as he continued to look at me in puzzlement.

We sat down to watch telly for awhile, kissing at midnight, and despite my best intentions I couldn't keep my eyes open long after that.

"I'm sorry, Ollie," I said yawning. "I really intended to ravish you."

He chucked, as he let me to the bed. "We have all day tomorrow, no rush."

Stripping down to my boxers, I scurried under the covers, and was asleep soon after.

I stretched with a contented moan the next morning, turning to see him looking at me. "Good morning," I yawned, making sure to keep my hand over my mouth.

I reached for my wand, murmuring a quick breath freshening spell. Yeah, I fucking loved being a wizard. It made life so much easier.

"Good morning," he said with a smile. "You look happy."

"I am happy," I said, before bouncing out of bed. "Present time," I yelled, racing for my bag in the living room.

"You're acting like a little kid," he called after me.

"Shut up," I said, returning to the room with two wrapped gifts. "You aren't that much older than me."

I thrust the gifts at him. "Open it, open it!" I loved giving gifts. I had so much more fun looking for just the perfect gift for someone, but I usually couldn't wait for the occasion to give it to the person it was intended for. Ollie probably would have been opening his gift the day I came back from school if I'd seen him then.

I watched a smile play over his lips as he pulled the silly Santa themed wrapping paper away to reveal the book. "Thanks, this is perfect Star."

"Open the other one," I ordered.

Pulling the paper away, revealed the leather case for my second gift. Opening it he pulled out the bracelet, and I immediately helped him to put it on.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it," he said quietly, looking at me from under the fringe of his slightly longer hair.

"Your turn," he said, climbing across his bed to open his nightstand.

He brought out a small wooden box with my name carved into it. "Great minds think alike I guess," he said as I opened the box.

Inside was necklace with a Celtic sun pendant suspended from a silver chain. The pendant was circle with a diamond studded sun in the center. It looked antique and beautiful, yet still fully masculine.

"Wow, Ollie. This is great," I said smiling at him, as I dropped the necklace over my head. It rested slightly above mid chest, and I loved it.

"That's actually not the only thing, but the other thing can't be wrapped," he said.

"What do you mean?" I asked curiously.

His eyes met mine. "Y'know why I canceled on Christmas?"

"Yeah. You said your dad wanted you to have dinner with him and Diana."

"That's true, we did have dinner, but that isn't all that happened."

"What else happened."

He grabbed my hand. "I told my father about us."

I froze. That was not at all what I was expecting him to say. "And how did he take it?" I asked carefully.

"He wasn't exactly happy, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," Ollie said quietly. "He needs some time, but he'll want to met you at some point. Would you come and meet him?"

"Of course," I said quickly. It was all I'd wanted from almost the first moment I met him. "Whenever he's ready, I'll go and see him with you. Even if I'm at school."

I reached over to hug him. "I'm so glad that you did this."

"I knew it was something that you wanted," Ollie said.

I drew back. "You didn't do it just because I wanted it right? You were ready to tell him weren't you?" I guess I hadn't been hiding what I'd wanted very well after all.

"No, it wasn't just because of you. I did it as much for me as I did for you, because I want you to know that you mean something. You told your parents a long time ago, and I was kind of ashamed that I didn't have the balls to do the same thing. I was tired of being a coward, and I didn't want to lose you because of it."

I jumped on him, kissing, and didn't let him get another word out for a very long time.

0o0

As much as I wanted to see my best friend, Taryn, and find out what had happened to her before the holiday break, I didn't want to go back to school.

I was also slightly disappointed as I walked through the barrier at Platform 9 ¾ because I didn't get to see Ollie before I left.

He'd had to leave early that morning for meetings, followed by practice, and wasn't sure if he'd be able to my house before I left.

Sighing, I stood outside the train, waiting in line to board, when a hand dropped on my shoulder.

I turned to see Ollie smiling at me. Looking down, I noticed that he was still wearing his mud caked quidditch uniform.

Looking around, I could see everyone watching us with interest.

"Not that I'm not glad to see you, but what are you doing here?" I said in astonishment.

"I came to kiss my boyfriend goodbye," he said with a grin.

Gasps from the crowd followed his statement, but I didn't care.

I was kissing the man I loved, and if they didn't like it they could all suck it.


End file.
